The somnolent town of Purley was thrown into disarray
yesterday evening, when its entire population became temporarily weary
of titillation and double entendre

Onlookers reported scenes
of near-anarchy at around 11pm as residents—who would normally
have been safely guffawing into their cushions at the sight of Lee Sharpe’s
willy hanging out the side of his swimming trunks on Celebrity Love
Island—took to the streets in humourless panic. “I’ve
never been so scared” said Alistair Stewart (29), a native of
Aberdeen who was in
Purley visiting his friends Liz and Damian.

“We could tell something was wrong
when Patrick Kielty said something about Michael Greco shivering on
the beach because 'he’s only come in his shorts', and Liz just
rolled her eyes and said 'Yes, yes, very funny.' We tried not to worry
at first, but then when we switched over to Big Brother to
watch Sam eating
a banana in a provocative manner, Damian sighed and asked if we
fancied a DVD instead. It was then that we knew it was serious."

When the anxious friends decided to go to
a neighbour’s house to get help, however, they found that the
entire town had been affected by the chuckle-debilitating disorder.
“Everyone was just going mad,” thirty-two-year old retail
manager, Damien Spink, told Utterpants.
“People were literally running around in tears, clutching their
hair. I just remember this one guy climbing onto his own rooftop, screaming
“It’s so facile, it’s all so facile!” at the
night sky. It was total chaos."

Remarkably though, the endemic disappeared
as quickly as it arrived—indeed, by the time the Emergency Services
had been summoned (yes, all of them), the town had returned to its usual,
controllably tittersome, state. The exact reasons for the rapid dissipation
of disaffection remain unclear at present, but reports suggest that
a powerful outbreak of hilarity which ensued when one delirious citizen
inadvertently flashed
her boobs may have acted as a kind of ‘antidote’ to
the contagious comedic malaise. “Well, no matter what stopped
it, I’m just glad we can get on with our lives in peace,”
said a grateful Damien this morning, as he cracked one off the wrist
while watching a re-run of BayWatch on the history channel.